Rain

Money's just somethin' you throw

Off the back of a train

Got a head full of lightnin'

And a hand full of rain.—Norah Jones, Long Way Home

"You really gotta go out in this shit, babe?" Reno hitched himself up on the breakfast bar, still dressed in his pajamas, and cast a skeptical eye out at the stormy weather.

"It's express, the upcharge for that alone is obscene, and with it being a weekend…" the calculator that was always running in Cloud's head made the extra cash hard to resist. However, it was one thing that sucked, unequivocally sucked, about running a delivery service primarily on a motorcycle. That was the weather. And since they both worked within walking distance to home, neither owned an actual car. He was fortunate that Strife Delivery Service operated in a part of the continent where the weather was mild, and he loved nothing more than riding his bike under that big blue sky, wind blowing through him like freedom.

Some days, though, it rained. A very few days it rained hard.

At least it wasn't freezing, he attempted to console himself. But two hours each way in the driving rain, well, it sucked. Reno had dragged out of bed just long enough to brew him a thermos of coffee, but that was as far as his show of solidarity went on a Saturday. He had standards, after all. "Bummer, yo. Drive safe." He scratched his ass, kissed his boyfriend, and went back to bed.

Halfway to his destination, Cloud was pretty sure it would have been worth it to blow off the delivery and take the mortgage out of savings. He wondered if Reno was awake yet. He wanted to call; the damp and noise was getting on his nerves but he knew that the sound of that voice, broken velvet over the phone, still addled with sleep, would only add a boner to his growing list of discomforts.

He finally pulled off the road to save his sanity, an abandoned fuel station providing a welcome sanctuary. He retrieved his thermos of coffee and calculated for the thousandth time just what he was making off this trip. It would be nice to not have to touch the bank account this month. Though Reno made a pretty cushy salary as second in command of the Turks, Cloud liked to bring something to the table. But he was starting to feel silly, out here in the rain while Reno was in bed. And attractive as the money had sounded this morning, he'd rather be in that bed with Reno until lunch. Not just in a sexual way either, though he found himself forcing his thoughts away from that thing Reno did with his tongue, the way he rolled it right between Cloud's collarbone and the muscle of his throat.

Shit.

Unbidden, heat rose in him. He took out his phone and stopped. When had he changed from the man who wouldn't answer the cursed thing, to the man hoping like hell he could piggyback off a shortwave tower in the middle of nowhere?

Fuck it. He dialed.

Reno stopped in the middle of cutting vegetables and wiped his hand. Still no chef, he'd made his peace with simpler recipes that involved chopping, fire, and other means of violent destruction. It was kind of like blowing shit up, but different.

After all, when Cloud returned, he might like soup. It felt good to contribute something besides lazing around all weekend on the sofa.

"Yo!" He cradled the phone on his shoulder.

"I should have stayed home."

"Bike trouble?" Fenrir was beyond reliable but anything could happen in this weather.

"No, about a half hour out from delivery but had to pull over to rest. Piggybacking off a tower now."

"Didn't think I recognized the number. Should have potato soup when you get back."

"I'm sorry, do I have the wrong number?"

"Shut it, Strife. Get your fine ass back safe, I have uses for it."

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you too." He hung up. Half hour, delivery, two hours back, maybe a little extra for weather delay. He turned the clock around because it was pissing him off.

The weather, thank Gaia, cleared for most of the trip back but he was still damp and a little chilled. He had refreshed his coffee in town and pulled over at the same station to drink a few cups, even though he didn't really need the break. Another biker was there; they exchanged nods and well wishes for their travels. Real conversations among the brotherhood of the road were rare, a fact for which Cloud was eternally grateful. He hit redial.

"You on the way back?" Reno sounded as if he'd been napping. Cloud squashed the wave of envy he felt.

"Yeah, little over an hour out."

"Weather still sucks here, yo. Call when you hit town so I can stop worrying like a granny."

Cloud turned the key in the door and was met first with the smell of butter and spices, and then with a warm dry hug from Reno, in spite of the fact that he was still cold and wet. "Take a shower and warm up, then soup's on." Gods, he did the tongue thing. "And hurry."

He hurried.

Showered and wearing dry gym pants and an ancient, soft t shirt, he settled down to his soup. It was quite good, and he told Reno so.

"Stupid easy, yo. Or I'd never have survived it, and neither would the kitchen. Plus it has bacon." Reno was convinced bacon was a food group.

When his bowl was empty, Cloud pulled out a stack of gil notes that made Reno's eyes widen. "Yeah but you know what? I still wish I'd stayed home with you." He peeled off a few bills at a time. "Waking up when I felt like it because it was Saturday. Morning sex. Going back to sleep. Taking a shower together. Watching shit TV. Eating last night's takeout leftovers for lunch. Letting you convince me to go back to bed. Napping till supper. Going out for beer. Collapsing drunk in bed again. Me waking up at 3am with your tongue somewhere I'd have lost a bet on it being five years ago. I sold my Saturday and I think I got ripped off."

Reno looked at him for a long moment and gathered him up in an embrace, inhaled the warm damp shower smell of him. It was several moments before he trusted himself to speak; his chest and throat felt full, tight.

"We still got time for the last five, babe."

This was another bet Cloud would have lost all those years back, when he was consumed by angst and Reno knew nothing but his own chilled ruthlessness. He would not have ruled out simple fucking; their attraction had been obvious even then. But that it could be not only this tender lovemaking, over and over, and that Cloud would so often lead in it…it would have gotten anyone who suggested such a thing laughed at and possibly beheaded, and not necessarily in that order.

But Reno had turned out to be a generous and patient lover, with an unexpected mind for humor and teasing that drove Cloud half mad and addicted him by equal measures. And to Cloud's unending surprise, Reno really did seem to love him exactly as he was, moodiness and all.

His musings were cut short once again by the redhead's insistent stroking through his clothing. It drove him to distraction, Reno's roaming fingers, soft here, firm there. And that damn tongue was back to work on his neck again. He moaned, walking backward toward the bed and pulling Reno with him, trying simultaneously to wiggle out of his clothing. It wasn't working. "Fuck."

"Getting there, babe."

They landed on the bed with a soft whoompf, grinding together like teenagers on a date. "I missed you. All day. I want to make up for lost time. Touch you everywhere." It sounded like a damn fine idea to Cloud, finally blissfully naked and starting to work on Reno's jeans. Unzipping them between strokes took more work than he had counted on.

"I swear, sometimes you have more than two hands."

"Complaining?"

"Nngh." One of Reno's more than two hands had located and opened a bottle of lube, somehow, without letting go of any of Cloud's body parts that he had been squeezing or stroking. He wondered if being gone all day was a good trade, if he was missed this much. Reno pressed into him with such impossibly slowness he wanted to scream.

He wasn't sure he didn't scream as he pushed his hips up, his impatience getting the better of him, and gasping with the faint stinging stretch he felt. He knew it would ease with movement but in the meantime it only served to further arouse him, if that were even possible. Like the raking of the nails down his inner thighs, and the look of pure animal pleasure on Reno's face.

The mirror image of that pleasure was beginning to pool, hard, in his groin. His back arched and he wrapped his hand around his own hard shaft as the first sweet pinpricks moved through him. He was past warning Reno but he knew his lover would feel the shudders from inside him, would follow him soon. Sure enough, as he was riding out the first waves of his own orgasm he heard over his own groan, Reno's string of profanity. He wasn't familiar with some of the words; he assumed the Turk had picked them up from his foreign travels. He'd ask later.

He realized, once his senses returned to him, that the rain had finally stopped. Figured, it would do so once he was inside, warm, dry, fed, and laid.

Reno pulled out of him, carefully and looking a little shell shocked, and stretched out beside him. "Nap, then beer, right? And just where did you want that tongue later?"

Cloud laughed. It was good to be home.